


RUN

by localkpoprat



Category: EXO
Genre: Angst, Attempted Rape, Bottom Baekhyun, Depression, Drinking, Drugs, Eventual Smut, Gang, Gay, Light BDSM, M/M, Model, On the Run, Psychological Games, Psychological Trauma, Rough Sex, Side Ships, Smut, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Top Chanyeol, Underground, Violence, baek kinda hates chan, bxb - Freeform, chan just wants to help, clubs, cop Yeol, corrupt government, mafia, mature language, model Baek, police officer, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:48:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26517712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/localkpoprat/pseuds/localkpoprat
Summary: After their horrible run in at the club, Baekhyun never wanted to see his savior’s face again, never wanting to be reminded of the events that transpired that night.Chanyeol only wanted to protect the pretty boy, wanting nothing more than to keep the look of hatred and anger from his life.And yet...Fate had other plans.Baekhyun didn't plan on meeting Chanyeol, nor did he actually want to after their encounter.All he was there for was a simple photo shoot, then be on his way.But Chanyeol seemed to have other plans.With nothing but chilling glares and snapping jaws, Baekhyun brutally rejected every advance anyone had ever made towards him, Chanyeol included.But...He found himself getting more and more invested in the eyes of the young police officer, wanting nothing more than to find out what secrets those stormy eyes held within them.And yet, Baekhyun's own secrets and past ended up catching up to him.A whole lot faster than he'd ever imagined.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Park Chanyeol
Kudos: 17





	1. under neon lights

**Author's Note:**

> this story is gonna be heavy and dark, no sunshine and huge amounts of fluff so be ready for some dark themes that may be triggering. i want a story that’s realistic in sense of bad things happening in the world in the underground, so this is it! i hope you enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ⚠️attempted rape happens in this chapter, so please don’t read that part once its being alluded to what happens next if you're uncomfy!

**f r i d a y n i g h t**

ꕥ •—• ꕥ

Vibrations, they buzzed all throughout his body with each step he took through the sea of clubbers. The aroma of their sweat glistened bodies and the swishes of alcohol in their cups did little to help ease his nerves.

He wished he could rip the building anxiety from his chest and light it on fire. He couldn't even begin to fathom why his father sent him to this club, not one bit since the old man knows how much Baekhyun hates unfamiliar venues.

But what he hated most about it was the feeling of vulnerability.

He absolutely despised it.

The scowl on his lips couldn't have given that away any better as he slipped through grinding bodies and wandering hands under the blaring beats of music and blue lights.

His eyes scanned the entirety of the club, once, then twice before landing on the man he'd come here to see.

With a sigh leaving his lips, he shimmied his way through the dance floor, not missing the lustrous glances thrown his way as he kept going.

He felt as if there was an ever present itch on his skin, an itch that refused to cease the longer he stayed inside of the bustling club.

_I should've gotten a drink, or something,_ he thought as he neared the edge of the dance floor, catching sight of a small flight of stairs.

_Calm down_ , his mind whispered as his hands trembled at his sides.

His heart thrashed behind his chest, as a light layer of sweat on his forehead built up.

He didn't know if it was the heat from the buzzing bodies in the club, or his anxiety of meeting this man his father arranged a meeting with.

He hoped it was the former.

The scowl on his lips softened a bit as his sights landed on the man and his crew of bodyguards.

_Smile just like you were told, Baekhyun_ , his mind recited, making the scowl on his lips quirk back into place.

His teeth clamped down on his lower lip, seductive to some but to him, it only was to help ease the scowl he possessed.

If this were any other person, Baekhyun would have freed his scowl, flaunting it as if it were his prized possession.

But this was much more than he would have ever bargained for.

He didn't know if he should thank his father, or shove him down a flight of stairs.

Being in this unfamiliar club in a different town was enough to make his fingers twitch into fists at his side as he moved up the stairs.

He cursed whoever made the stairs, wishing there'd been more to climb to stretch out his inevitable meeting with this man.

Yet, Lady Luck didn't seem to be on his side tonight.

As soon as the bodyguards had their sights on the young man, their backs straightened and their faces held empathetic gestures before turning stoic within the blink of an eye.

Baekhyun blinked thinking it was all a hallucination that made him see how sorry these henchmen were for him, but he didn't get the chance to dwell on those thoughts.

"Ah, you must be Baekhyun?" a voice called out, snapping him from his thoughts as his eyes slid from the faces of the guards to their employer.

Baekhyun stiffened in his tracks.

His blood chilled as he stood before the man on the black leather couch, women and men alike draped along his body. Some on his lap, others between his legs.

What the hell is this..? Baekhyun thought as his eyes widened, his breathing becoming ragged as he gazed into the eyes of the man.

"Long time, don't ya think, Baekhyun?" the man asked, a lazy smile on his face as he took in the paling features of Baekhyun's face.

_Why the hell is he here? He didn't look like that when I first looked at him_...he thought as his mind raced as he looked at the familiar man.

"Why'd you act like you didn't know me when you saw me?" he questioned, his voice a lot more stable than the rest of him.

The man before him chuckled as he poured himself a glass of expensive-looking wine.

"I can't have a little fun with you, huh? I mean, that is why you're here, isn't it? For some fun?" the man teased, his long hair drifting into his eyes.

Everything about the man had a chill running down Baekhyun's spine.

_Why does everything about him seem so different now?_ he wondered, recalling each time he and his father had this man in their lavish home.

_Wu Yifan...what's his deal?_

"Well," Yifan began, raising his drink glass in the air as he let his shade covered eyes linger on Baekhyun's body.

Maybe I should've worn something less revealing, he thought even though the only skin that was shown was his neck.

He was clad in a pair of tight leather pants, a half white-half black button down that flared at the wrists, and leather boots. A basic black choker rested on his neck, drawing attention to few unbuttoned buttons on his shirt.

And Yifan's eyes ate up every inch of exposed flesh that Baekhyun had.

He felt itchy again.

He wanted to leave.

"Come sit," Yifan coaxed, his hand gesturing to his lap before motioning to the rest of the couch occupied by his guests.

His heart dropped, plummeting to the depths of his stomach.

"W-What?" he stammered, hoping he didn't hear Yifan right.

He couldn't sit on his lap.

Or, anywhere near him.

Yifan chuckled darkly, his booming voice carrying a hidden malice Baekhyun picked up on. It had him trembling, his heart pounding, and his mind racing.

_I should leave...like now_ , he thought as he turned on his heels, but, he bumped into something hard.

Well, someone hard.

One of the bodyguards stood in his way, that same flash of empathy on his face as he looked down at Baekhyun.

"Let me through," Baekhyun demanded, his voice trembling as his nerves got the best of him.

But, to no avail, the guard before him wouldn't budge.

Baekhyun tugged on the guard's suit sleeve, his eyes peering deeply into the guard's. "Please," he begged, his eyes misting with unshed tears.

A scowl soon inched onto his face at his weak resolve.

_Pathetic_ , he thought, his mind hissing at him.

He had a black belt in Hapkido and yet, there he stood, begging to be let through because he was uncomfortable.

He truly did think himself as being weak, pathetic even because of this.

That had the scowl on his face deepening as his misty eyes iced over into a glare directed at the guard.

"I'm leaving," he sneered, sidestepping the guard as he tried to make his way through the others, ignoring the snickers Yifan laughed out.

_I should wipe that smile off his lips_ , his mind snapped, but he found himself calming down a bit.

_I can handle them,_ he thought.

"Please, don't make us use drastic measures," one guard whispered into his ear.

Baekhyun's eyes widened as he looked down seeing what the guard had in his hand.

He would've been a whole lot more at ease if it were a gun, but no.

The guard had a syringe in his hand, just below his sleeve.

Baekhyun didn't think his heart could've dropped any further, but it did.

"Just do what he says and it'll be over a lot faster than what you're making it," the guard warned, his voice quiet as he spoke loud enough for Baekhyun to hear. "When you're done, I'll escort you out myself and make sure you get out of here safely."

Safely?

_Why would I be put into any danger?_ Baekhyun wondered as he stood there, shaking like a leaf as his resolve crumbled even further.

His once scowling features churned until they dropped, his blood draining from his face under the neon lights.

"What do I need to do?" he asked the guard, his voice unsteady as he spoke.

The guard sighed, easing the syringe back under his sleeve. "Just go over there and sit, he'll tell you."

Baekhyun nodded, taking a deep breath as he tried his hardest to pull himself together.

Straightening his back, he spun on his heels, back to the guards as he strut over to Yifan.

His facade of confidence would only last so long, but he'd keep it up as long as it got him out of there faster.

_I need this...this is for the money_ , his mind recited, prepping him for what was to come.

Yifan's eyes locked onto the exposed flesh of Baekhyun's chest once more, feasting on the sight as he shooed the men and women on his limbs away as he pat his thigh.

Baekhyun eyed that thigh warily before brushing his worries away.

_If all goes to hell, dropkick a bitch_ , his mind whispered, reminding him of his skills in self-defense.

_I got this._

Before he knew it, he was falling into Yifan's embrace with grace unlike any the older man had ever seen before.

"Now what are we doing here, Yifan?" he wondered, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he slung his arms around the older man's shoulders, crossing his leg over the other.

Yifan chuckled darkly, one of his hands finding its way on Baekhyun's waist while the other went onto his thigh, making the latter stiffen.

"You're gonna work for your deal, baby," Yifan whispered against his ear, sending even worse chills down Baekhyun's spine.

His hand clenched into a fist behind Yifan's head as he sat there.

"How do you mean?" he wondered, his voice cracking a but as the hand on his thigh slinked higher up, winding up on his bottom, giving the flesh a small squeeze.

Yifan shrugged, glancing over his shoulder as he searched for someone, a wicked smirk crawling over his lips as he found his target.

"I want you to go over there, by that boy," Yifan began, pointing to a lone boy dancing with a bottle in his hand. "And I want you to take him to the back and tape somethin' good for me," he chuckled as Baekhyun's confident facade began to slip.

Crashing even.

The confidence on his face fell straight to the ground, shattering to bits as he sat there.

"You want me to make you a porno?" he gasped, his eyes glancing at the boy Yifan pointed at. "He's a stranger, I can't do that to him. I—"

"Shh, quiet now," Yifan growled, his hand leaving Baekhyun's behind as it roughly gripped his jaw. "It's either him, or it's me with you, which one is it gonna be, Baek baby?"

Baekhyun felt his stomach churn.

"Why are you making me do tha—"

"Me it is then," Yifan cut him off, a snarl on his lips as he abruptly stood up, causing Baekhyun to stumble to his feet.

"Wait—" Baekhyun begged, his mind racing along with his pounding heart.

_I didn't sign up for this shit._

Before he knew what was happening, Yifan was yanking him down a dark hallway, onlookers shook their heads, their eyes downcast as they watched sympathetically.

_Why aren't they saying anything?_

_Why aren't they helping me?_

His eyes widened in realization as everything settled in.

_They all know what goes on here, don't they?_

And then, he glanced at one more onlooker, his eyes latching onto the tall man's eyes pleadingly.

He wasn't given anymore time to silently beg for help before he was shoved into a room.

All he was was red lights lining the room, the smell of sex pungent in the air as he gulped for air.

_I need to call my dad,_ he thought as he went to reach for his phone, but a hand on his wrist stopped him.

"No calling daddy, baby," Yifan sneered, his body pressed against Baekhyun's.

"Why not? I didn't think I'd have to do all this just to get a shoot done," Baekhyun scoffed, a great contrast to the crashing resolve he kept trying to piece back together.

Yifan spun him around, his hand holding Baekhyun's cheek.

"You're the one who sat on my lap, and had the audacity to come into my club looking so, mmhm," Yifan hummed, his teeth catching his lower lip as he looked Baekhyun over. "At first, I wanted just a little touch, maybe even a blowjob, but damnit. You sat there on my lap."

Baekhyun stopped breathing.

_I fucked myself over..._

"Yes you did, baby," Yifan answered his outer thoughts. "And now, I want something more."

___

Chanyeol rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time since he'd been in the club. From the vibrating dance floor to the grappling hands, he'd been annoyed by everything about the place.

Right now, he was pushed against a wall, a hand traveling down his chest while another tugged on the roots of his hair.

The girl crawling about his body hadn't done anything to cure his annoyance.

Th only thing she did do was further it.

_I shouldn't have come,_ he thought as he placed his hands on the girl's waist, about to push her off as his eyes glanced down the darkened hall.

The club's owner, a friend of his father's, was walking in his direction, but that wasn't who had his attention.

Oh, no, the boy Yifan had in his grasp had all of Chanyeol's attention.

From his messy brown hair, to the Smokey eyeshadow on his eyes, all the way to the shiny boots on his feet.

_Who's that?_ he wondered, his attention completely abandoning the girl on him.

And then, the boy looked up, his wide, fearful eyes catching Chanyeol's own in a short glance.

But it felt much longer than that.

As soon as the shorter boy's eyes fell on his own, a strange feeling burned in his chest as the fear in the boy's eyes triggered him.

_What is Yifan doing?_ he wondered, as he kept his eyes locked onto the boy's scared ones.

Chanyeol never did like Yifan.

He always found the man to be a snake, always slithering through the grass before he bit his newest victim.

And tonight?

It seemed as if that boy he was yanking through the hall was his newest victim.

His eyes fell onto the tight grip Yifan had on the shorter boy's wrist.

"Gotta go," Chanyeol grumbled as he peeled the girl from his body as he walked over to the room Yifan pulled the mystery boy in. Something snapped within himself.

He didn't know why, but getting that boy out of Yifan's clutches was his mission.

He'd die before he let someone else be a victim to Yifan's games.

But, to no avail, his lady friend wasn't done with him.

"Wait, we were having so much fun," the girl whined, her hands grasping at every inch of Chanyeol that she could.

But he couldn't have that.

Not tonight at least.

"Stop it, I have to go," he snapped, shoving the girl's wandering hands from his body as he walked forward.

He reached the door in what seemed like forever to him.

Too much time had been wasted he felt.

He stopped at the door, pressing his ear to the door, not wanting to barge in.

_What if he liked what was going on?_ he wondered, recalling that people had different kinks.

But this felt different.

That fearful look in that boy's eyes hadn't been like any kind of thrill kink he'd ever seen.

And then, he heard it.

'Get off of me! Get off of me! Somebody help me—'

Breaking furniture and glass resounded in the room, confirming his thoughts.

Son of a bitch.

He kicked his way in, the door heaving under the weight of his booted feet.

His eyes scanned the room until they widened, horrified at the scene before him.

Pressed under Yifan's weight, the boy was sandwiched between the wall and Yifan's body, his leather pants being tugged over his bottom as a hand wrapped around his throat.

Chanyeol's stomach churned in disgust as he stomped over, yanking Yifan's body from the boy's, reeling his fist back and slamming it into Yifan's face.

"What's wrong with you?" he spat, his blood boiling as he sneered at Yifan who laid on the floor, his own pants unbuckled as the head of his member peeked from beneath his briefs.

"Oh, Chanyeol, what a nice surprise!" Yifan yipped as if his nose wasn't leaking blood all over the place.

He stood to his feet, swaying as he glared at Chanyeol despite the grin on his bloodied lips.

Chanyeol looked behind him to see the boy he saved crumpled against the wall, struggling to even pull his pants up with his trembling hands, sobs wracking through his body.

The sight enraged him even more.

"Are you fucking serious?! I knew you were a piece of shit, but fucking rape? Seriously?" Chanyeol scoffed going to land another hard punch in Yifan's face, but the older man blocked it, landing his own in Chanyeol's gut.

The breath in his lungs hitched as his stomach dropped, coughs spitting up his throat as he bent over.

But Chanyeol wouldn't give up that quickly.

It was as if the boy's cries fueled his rage as tackled Yifan to the ground, pushing the pain of his belly out of his mind as he rained his heavy fists down on the older man's face.

He hadn't felt such blinding rage like this in such a long time, he could hardly believe it as he grabbed Yifan by his collar and slamming his forehead into the man's nose, a sickening crack filling the room along with the boy's cries.

"P-Please stop..." a small whimper rang out, making Chanyeol's fist linger in the air before it could land on Yifan's face once more.

He looked over his shoulder to the boy crumpled against the wall. The boy was attempting to stand to his feet, but his legs seemed to be against him as he sobbed, shaking as his trembling limbs did nothing to help him.

Chanyeol was about to go over to him, but a fist crashing into his temple had him slumping over, black blotches filling his vision.

"Get up," Yifan spat, crimson liquid spraying Chanyeol's face as he wobbled to get back on his feet, but Yifan had other plans.

His foot kicked, slamming into Chanyeol's ribs, knocking the breath out of him.

Yifan took his turn in landing punch after punch on Chanyeol's face, but he missed one thing.

The boy on the floor was no longer there.

With shaking hands, the boy picked a clay vase up from one of the tables, raising it above his head, and cracking it over Yifan's head.

Yifan dropped like a fly, his head leaking a bit of blood as the broken pieces of hardened clay lay spread around his body.

Chanyeol blinked up, realizing what happened as he looked up at the trembling boy.

Get him out of here, his mind hissed, forcing him to his feet, slowly but surely.

Chanyeol wiped his leaking nose as he stumbled toward the trembling boy.

"Let's get you out of here," he panted out, stepping over Yifan's body.

He paused, looking down and seeing the small, minuscule puddle spilling from the older man's head on the floor.

With two fingers, he stuck his hand on the side of Yifan's throat, feeling the steady beat of his pulse.

"Now, we can go," he grumbled, swaying as he went over to the boy.

The boy looked up at him with glossy eyes, his lip trembling as he looked up at Chanyeol.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Chanyeol waved his off as he looked him over, careful of any injuries he couldn't see.

"Are you okay?" he asked, the boy nodded. "Okay."

And with that, Chanyeol and the trembling boy pushed their way through the sea of clubbers who knew nothing of the night's events, their consciences clean of the evil that owned the club.

Chanyeol pushed and shoved everyone out of his way as he made room for the shorter boy with him until he got to the back door of the club.

Pushing the door open, the night's air caressed their skin as they exited the building.

Escorting the boy to his motorcycle, Chanyeol took a deep breath, handing the boy his only helmet.

The boy stared up at him questioningly. "Do you have another?" he asked.

Chanyeol shook his head as he mounted the bike. "You need it more than I do. Now hop on so I can get you to a hospital," Chanyeol said, bringing the bike to life with a turn of his keys.

The boy hopped on behind him, clutching onto him tight after he put on the helmet.

"Are you sure you should be driving? You got hit pretty hard?" he asked as they began to pull out of the parking lot, but the sound of the back door crashing open pulled their attention.

Yifan's bodyguards spilled out the door, their guns raised as they searched.

Chanyeol's initial spinning head cleared as the adrenaline kicked in.

"Hold on tight," he warned as he pulled off, zipping through the parking lot, swerving past clubbers and drivers alike as they made their escape.

The wind blew against their skin as they rode through the streets.

Chanyeol couldn't believe the bullshit he witnessed tonight.

But the warm hands that wrapped around his torso reminded him of the good he'd done.

A small smile graced his lips as he sped off.

"Don't take me to the hospital!" the boy behind him requested, yelling against the wind.

Chanyeol's brows furrowed. "Why not? We gotta report this!" he refuted, wanting to get the once terrified boy to a hospital as soon as possible.

The boy against his back argued, "Yifan was badly injured in his own club, and his guards would most likely have someone there looking for us," he reasoned.

Chanyeol's brows shot up to his hairline.

"You're trusting me? After what happened?" he asked, amazed that the boy would even want to be around another man after what he just went through.

The boy nodded into his back. "If you wanted to harm me, you would have done so back in the club."

Chanyeol scoffed.

He has a point, he thought as he twisted and turned through the still bustling streets of the city.

The moon rested high in the sky, lighting their way all the way through the city.

Against the rushing whispers of the wind, Chanyeol heard the boy's voice amongst the wind's saying:

"I'm Baekhyun, by the way."


	2. hidden moves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is gonna be a little shorter than any other chapter, but, everything after this short chapter will kick off! i hope you enjoy <3

**f r i d a y n i g h t**

ꕥ •—• ꕥ

Chanyeol's hands tightened around the handles of his bike, its roads echoing through the roads as he continued to speed away. He could hardly even process what the hell even happened. All he knew now was that he needed to get this boy away from Yifan's men, and quickly.

With a sharp right turn, Chanyeol pulled into an abandoned alleyway.

Bringing the bike to a slowing stop, Chanyeol took a deep breath, enjoying the warmth the body behind him emitted as he sat there.

 _I should call Sehun, I don't think I should be riding right now_ , he thought as his began to take a slow spin, his vision full of small, squiggly lines and black blotches.

But, a pair of hands sliding from his waist brought him out of his thoughts.

Slipping from the back of the bike, Baekhyun took shaky breaths as his feet met the glistening ground of the alleyway.

Call dad, his mind whispered, his fingers twitching as he pat down his pockets, but found nothing.

_It must've fell out when—_

His stomach sank, feeling as if someone punched him, taking the air from his lungs as the events of tonight replayed in his mind.

Over and over again.

His gut churned in disgust and his face paled significantly, all of the initial adrenaline that coursed through his veins back at the club vanished as he stood in the alley.

And Chanyeol noticed.

"Hey," he called out, his brows furrowed as he took in the paling face of the shorter, "are you oka—"

Hunching over, Baekhyun retched everything that his stomach held, the burning acid burning his throat as he wheezed out coughs. His body shuddered in the chilly breeze of the alley, his mind replaying the sensation on Yifan's hands on his body.

His privates on his back... Baekhyun vomited again, heaving up the disgust that could only be thrown up.

He couldn't wait to get home, wanting anything more than to scrub his skin raw of the feeling of Yifan's hands.

Chanyeol slipped himself off of the bike, taking slow, tentative steps towards Baekhyun's shivering and hunched form.

 _What do I do?_ he wondered as he took in the ragged breathing and soft sobs that emitted from the shorter.

Chanyeol approached the heaving boy slowly, his palms up as if he were approaching a frightened animal. Well, that wasn't too far from the truth. He was approaching a frightened animal, a boy who's whole world had been shattered at the cruel touch of his father's business partner.

Chanyeol hated seeing the other like this, a wreck.

He wanted to do something-- anything that would ease his suffering, even for a moment.

But, things were much easier said than done.

As soon as his hand laid upon Baekhyun's arm, the shorter spun in his grip, yanking Chanyeol by the arm and slamming him into the bricked wall of the alley, his forearm crushing Chanyeol's windpipe in a flurry of movements.

Chanyeol's eyes bugged out of his skull at the fast movement, shocked at the fact that Baekhyun had him pinned to a wall like this.

"Wha...are you...doing?" he wheezed, his arms flailing about as he tried to escape the rather strong clutch the shorter had on him. Looking down into Baekhyun's eyes, he figured out why.

The boy's eyes were blown wide in fury and underlying terror. Chanyeol figured that his fight or flight reflexes kicked in, hence why he was pinned on a wall with his air supply cut off.

"Don't fucking touch me," Baekhyun sneered, his lips trembling, and his eyes zeroing in on Chanyeol's reddened face. "I don't need your fucking help," he grumbled, finally removing his forearm from Chanyeol's throat, backing away from him entirely.

Chanyeol wheezed, breathing raggedly as he gulped down tufts of air. His head felt light, and his chest burned hot.

 _Who the hell is this kid?_ he wondered, holding a hand to his burning throat as he watched Baekhyun walk further and further away.

"Wait...where are you," he coughed, "going?"

Baekhyun didn't even spare him a glance, not pausing as he kept walking as he spoke. 

"Goodbye, Chanyeol."

And with that, Baekhyun disappeared from the alley, not to be seen again...

Or, so Chanyeol thought.


	3. scowls and snarls

**s u n d a y m o r n i n g  
** _one month later..._

ꕥ •—• ꕥ

"Nice to meet you again, Mr. Byun," the photographer greeted, his hand extended as Baekhyun stood before him. Taking the man's hand in his, Baekhyun shook it, a rather bored expression on his face as he stared up at the man.

"Nice to see you, too, Sehun," Baekhyun droned, a slight smile on his lips as he dragged his eyes lazily over the man before him.

His eyes went all over the studio, landing on everything the morning sun set it's rays upon, enjoying the well-lit room.

Baekhyun always had such love for the sun, relishing it's warmth as it kissed his skin, but the flowy curtains in the studio stifled some of that warmth.

But he hardly paid any mind.

He was here for a job.

No more, no less.

"When do we start?" he asked, his eyes glancing at the other people that shuffled around the studio.

Sehun, the photographer, nodded, his eyes wide in excitement as he motioned for Baekhyun to follow him into the room they'd be doing their shoot in for the day.

Much like the front lobby, this room was well lit, too. The sun made its presence known as it shown its yellow rays through the open windows.

"Here's the concept for today's shoot. I know you're quite busy so I only wanted to do this one today and wanted to schedule another time for you to come in if you don't mind," Sehun rambled on, showing Baekhyun the photos and sketches of the concept they were going for.

Baekhyun was pleased with the concept, seeing as though his current outfit resonated quite a lot with the concept.

"Yes, this works out fine," he smiled, handing Sehun the large album. "Shall we start?" he asked, quite excited about the shoot now.

A minute ago he couldn't have given a rat's ass about the shoot or the concept, but seeing that the concept was dark and lustrously messy, he could hardly wait to do it.

Sehun smiled, clapping his hands as he moved about the room, setting his concept album down. "Great, I'll get your outfit out and be right back!" the younger man tipped as he raced into a closet space and retrieved the outfit.

While he was gone, Baekhyun waltzed over to a chair, sitting down with utmost grace as he crossed his legs over the other, pulling his phone from his pocket and checking emails.

The sound of a door opening made his smokey eyes peer up from his device, widening a fraction as they took in the newcomer.

_What the hell...?_ he wondered as he peered up at the man.

The man was tall, taller than his photographer, with lightly tanned skin and platinum blond hair.

His dark, stormy eyes drifted across the room until they landed on Baekhyun's, seeming to soften once they landed on him.

This made something in Baekhyun's chest churn.

A scowl smeared itself on his lips as his eyes went back to his phone screen.

"Long time, so see, Baekhyu-"

"What the hell are you doing here?" Baekhyun snapped, his heart dropping to the pit of his stomach as his face paled.

_Why is he here?_ he wondered, looking at the all too familiar man before him.

_Did he follow me in?_

_Calm down, it probably isn't that deep._ Baekhyun's mind hissed, shutting down the panic that rose up his throat. 

Chanyeol scoffed, rolling his eyes as his tongue poked into his cheek. "Nice to see you, too."

Baekhyun sighed, trying his hardest to calm the hammering heart in his chest from leaping out.

But how could he do that when the one person who saw him at his absolute weakest stood before him?

How could he even deal with that embarrassment?

He wanted to throw himself out the window behind him, hoping he broke his neck in the process so he'd die before having the conversation Chanyeol wanted to have.

He knew well enough from the sympathetic glint in the taller man's eyes that he wanted to see where he was mentally, but Baekhyun wouldn't have it. Not here at least.

But to no avail, Chanyeol opened his mouth.

"It was a complete accident seeing you here, but if you ever want to talk about what happened I'm here for-" 

"It never happened," Baekhyun spat, his eyes smoldering in unadulterated fury and most importantly, embarrassment. If it were legal, he'd kill Chanyeol, slitting his throat and taking away the only means of him being able to speak about those horrid events he's been trying so hard to forget.

He wasn't in therapy for nothing, and he wasn't about to allow for this wannabe savior to try to reopen lightly scabbed wounds.

Over his dead body.

Chanyeol seemed to get the message through Baekhyun's glares and sharp quips, closing his mouth, doing little to stifle the minuscule upward tilt of his lips.

"What's so fun-"

"Okay, Baekhyun-ssi, everything is read- Chanyeol? What are you doing here?" Sehun wondered, curiosity spreading across his features as his eyes drifted between his best friend and his client. "I thought I told you that I had an appointment today..."

Chanyeol cleared his throat, sliding his challenging, incredulous gaze from Baekhyun's glaring ones as he looked to his friend. "Oh, I just wanted to stop by anyway- to watch the shoot," he scoffed out, a much softer gaze and smile resting on his features as he spoke to the younger man.

Sehun smiled, a short chuckle leaving his lips as he scratched at the nape of his neck. "Well, that's fine, I suppose. Just don't interrupt anything," he warned lightly, his finger pointing at Chanyeol.

Baekhyun just sat there, watching the interactions of the two, his face stoic and dark in contrast to the chaos erupting in his mind.

_Why did his face change so much when Sehun came back in?_

_Why would he want to stay here?_

_Will he try to talk to me after?_

As all of those questions remained in his head, swarming around like irritated wasps, Baekhyun didn't realize he was being called out to until a pair of expensive sneakers filled his line of vision, snapping him from his thoughts.

Slowly, he let his eyes roam up the long legs clad in light blue, ripped jeans, traveling up until they landed on playful, challenging eyes. "Your shoot," was all Chanyeol said, was all he needed to say, but, to Baekhyun, it sounded like a million other things.

He sent a withered down glare at Chanyeol once more before standing up, gracefully so as he came face-to-chest with Chanyeol.

He would never admit it, but Baekhyun deemed Chanyeol as someone he wouldn't mind bedding. Letting the other rough him up between tangled sheets and shaky breaths for a night, but he knew too much.

He knew of the trauma that had Baekhyun wary of his father and his plans for him.

He knew of the fear and anguish in his eyes as he cried out helplessly as Yifan tried to have his way with him.

And most importantly:

He knew of his vulnerability.

With that alone, any earlier thought of Chanyeol and his appeal went down the toilet, along with a piece of his sanity.

So, now they stood there, silently challenging the other with unseen glares and unseen concern with their gazes.

He didn't know for certain, but he had a feeling deep in his belly that he wouldn't be able to shake Chanyeol anytime soon.

And as much as he hates that Chanyeol had seen the very worst of him, a small part of him was still clinging onto Chanyeol's back as they rode into the lively streets of Seoul, fleeing from the very things that brought him pain.

Clearing his throat, he snatched his gaze from Chanyeol's sidestepping the taller man. "I have a shoot to get to," he said, his voice low, his head held high, but his fingers twitched beside him.

Chanyeol noticed, his eyes meeting Baekhyun's again before he stepped out of his way. "Of course. Sorry," he muttered, his soft, yet challenging eyes meeting Baekhyun's once more as he moved out of his way.

Baekhyun scoffed over his shoulder as he followed after Sehun into the studio. "I don't want your apologies."

And with that, Chanyeol nodded, his lips curling up in a smirk, not a happy, flirty smirk, but a cold, pitying smirk.

A smirk Baekhyun would have killed him for if he saw it.

If only he saw it.


	4. chaotic beauty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not updating in forever! school is taking up a lot of my time, and made me go into writer's block...but, i'm back and i'll be updating again soon since i'm inspired to do so! happy reading :)

s u n d a y a f t e r n o o n

ꕥ •—• ꕥ

Chanyeol wouldn't- no, couldn't lie and say that Baekhyun had been anything other than alluring. As he sat in the far back of the studio, watching intently as Sehun snapped photo after photo of the beauty that was Baekhyun, he thought back on the night they'd met.

If it'd been on any other occasion than him saving Baekhyun from assault, he could imagine himself and the shorter having witty, flirty conversations amongst the beat of the club.

As soon as he'd laid his eyes on Baekhyun, he was drawn in, be it by the urgency in his misty eyes, or the beauty of his face, Chanyeol was drawn in.

He knew that it wasn't any of his business at all, none, but he couldn't help but worry for the other's wellbeing.

He should've never even been put into a situation such as the incident a month ago, but his father's business partner was as sleazy as a rat. Slippery, and disgusting as he hid in the dark of night to do his worst.

Chanyeol wanted, more than anything, was to protect Baekhyun.

He wanted nothing more than to wipe the fearful, broken gaze Baekhyun set on him that night.

He wanted to wrap Baekhyun in his arms, keeping the filth of the Underground from his pretty hands, shielding him from the horrors that lay beneath the surface.

But, Baekhyun would never allow that.

Or, so he thought as he recalled their earlier encounter of Baekhyun's staredown.

The way his eyes held unadulterated anger toward Chanyeol.

He wouldn't forget that.

Oh, no.

He would hold that memory with the memory of Baekhyun attacking him in the alley, his much smaller hands bending Chanyeol to his fear-driven will in the shadows of defense.

He scoffed at that, a humorless smile on his lips as he recounted the frenzy of the said attack.

 _I should make him apologize,_ he thought as his eyes set their gaze on Baekhyun's posing figure.

He knew Baekhyun would probably never go for that. He'd end up getting killed if he pushed Baekhyun into the corner.

But he wanted to keep pushing, knowing that scared cats fought, opened up, revealed themselves in the midst of fear.

That's exactly what Baekhyun was after all: a frightened cat.

A cat scorned by the hands of a snake, and the scum of the Underground.

And Chanyeol wanted to coax that cat into reassurance, wanting to pet the cat until its claws unfurled, and its fangs put away.

He wanted that cat to realize that he wasn't alone and that he had someone that could help with his pain.

Maybe, just maybe, easing the pain, gently relieving it until he could live his life without snapping and scowling at those who'd get too close to what lay beneath the beauty.

"Okay, Baekhyun, that'll be all for today. If you want, I can schedule you in for another shoot next weekend?" Sehun suggested, bringing Chanyeol from his daze as he watched Baekhyun's face go from seriously sexy to just serious.

"Yes, that'll be great. Can we do Saturday afternoon- I have plans with my father Friday?" Baekhyun requested, his lips tightening a tad at the notion of even seeing his father again.

"Of course! Can you ask him when's the next time he'll come in for a shoot? I know he has an upcoming campaign and I'd love to-"

"I'll let him know...thanks, Sehun," Baekhyun interrupted, his eyes slit in slight agitation.

Sehun nodded, seeming to finally catch onto the disdain Baekhyun had for his father. "See you around then. Have a good week!" he tipped, waving as he gave the older an eye smile.

Baekhyun nodded, his stance awkward as he pulled himself from the room, his eyes meeting Chanyeol's for a brief moment.

And yet, it felt so much longer than a moment- a fleeting glance.

There were so many words conveyed between the two as Baekhyun's warning glare landed on Chanyeol.

So much so that Chanyeol had the audacity to raise a brow, a questioning, challenging brow as Baekhyun's form walked further away from him.

"Hey, Chanyeol," Sehun called, pulling him from his staring contest with Baekhyun.

Raising a brow, Chanyeol looked to his best friend. "What's up?"

Sehun chuckled warily, the sound tight and strained as it left his lips. "Do you two know each other?" he asked in a lowered voice, his eyes darting over to Baekhyun's retreating form.

Chanyeol scoffed, a humorless smirk on his lips as he thought about the short model. "Vaguely, why?"

Sehun shrugged. "I just noticed the tension between you two. It was weird."

Chanyeol nodded, his mind wandering back to Baekhyun's face, his poses, his prowess.

"We had an unfortunate run in a while back at this club," he explained, not wanting to spill any more details of the scarring incident.

He wanted to forget the anguish on Baekhyun's face, but that would be easier said than done.

Something so horrific wouldn't just erase itself from his mind as he wished it.

No, it would marinate in his brain, playing again and again in the dead of night. The only sound he could hear is Baekhyun's muffled screams, the thrashing of bodies, and the face of a terrorized boy.

And, he wanted to fix it all.

  
  
  


•—•

  
  
  


Baekhyun sat across from his father, right leg crossed over the left as he stared impatiently at the old man. He couldn't hold the scowl this time, letting the disdain flow freely.

And to his disappointment, the man had the audacity to smirk, scoffing humorlessly as he requested for a maid to fill his cup with tea.

"Oh, don't look at me like that- how was I supposed to know it would go down like that?" he chuckled, eyes not looking into Baekhyun's as he settled comfortably, stretching his legs before him.

Baekhyun's eyes floated around the lounge room, eyes taking in the white, marbled floor and pillars as the warm midday sun reflected against it. But, his eyes were searching, searching for something to stab his father with preferably.

"You should've known that one of your fellow proprietors was a fucking lunatic-"

"Watch your profanity in this house, Baekhyun. You already know how your mother hates that filthy mouth of yours," his father chuckled darkly before taking a sip of his tea, his eyes gauging his son's expression over its rim.

Baekhyun stilled, his body rigid as he stared back at his father. He knew full well what that stare meant.

This conversation was over.

He hated losing to the geezer, always trying to get him to see things from his point of view, but to no avail, his father never took his side.

Not even if he was assaulted by one of his very own colleagues.

"Goodbye, father," Baekhyun quipped, standing from his chair, rolling his eyes at the hushed gasps from the maids as he strode through the massive mansion. His heart sank deeper into the depths of his belly with each step his feet made.

Even though it was hardly a surprise to him that his father wouldn't back him up, it still hurt.

It hurt so bad that warm tears streaked his lightly made-up face, his eyeliner smudging ever so slightly as the tears cascaded.

Even though the tears in his eyes were apparent in his pain, his face was twisted into a malicious scowl, his eyes narrowed into furious slits as he shoved the front doors open.

Through the anguish dragging him down, the amount of unadulterated fury sizzled in his blood as he stomped over to his waiting chauffeur.

"Take me home, Junmyeon," he snapped, sliding into the backseat of the car.

  
  


•—•

  
  


Chanyeol hated galas. He hated the way soft jazz filled the enormous space of whatever hotel he was in. He hated the way the clinking of champagne glasses ring in his ears.

He hated the smell of status and money that surrounded the attendees of these events. He even hated the way the bright, gorgeous venue outshined every dollar he had in his bank account, and every property his father owned with its sparkling columned walls. Hell, he even started to hate the murals painted onto the ceilings above them, beautiful, naked bodies floating lifelessly above him.

But, most importantly, he hated attending them with his father.

He loved his father, yes, but he absolutely loathed whenever his father took him to galas. Each time they went together, his father would have some beautiful, educated, resourceful girl waiting to meet him.

He had no qualms with spending a night with a girl, in fact, he even held relationships with girls from time to time.

But now?

There was someone else he wanted to give his attention and affections to, even though he was sure the boy would stab him in the throat if they crossed paths again.

He chuckled just thinking about it.

Imagining the fierce look in Baekhyun's eyes as he held a knife to his throat, hissing threats from his pretty lips as he held Chanyeol up against a wall.

It was a fucked up thought, yes, but it riled him up nonetheless.

"How are you enjoying the party?" his father wondered beside him as they sat at their table, effectively pulling him from his dirty thoughts.

"Honestly?" he asked, leaning closer to his father, his eyes glancing over the dancing, drinking bodies on the dance floor. His father nodded. "I'd rather douse myself in kerosene and light myself on fire than be here, and I think you know that, dad," he confessed, a ghost of a smile on his lips as his father tried to slap his arm.

"What did I tell you about that potty mouth of yours?" his father lightly scolded, a light smile on his pursed lips.

Chanyeol chuckled, feeling slightly better about being there.

Even so, he wanted nothing more than to be home with that demon of a dog of his and work out.

He was an officer in training, after all.

His father sighed, rolling his eyes at his silly son, glancing out into the sea of dancing bodies. "Why don't you find some lonely girl to dance with..." he trailed off, a foreboding sigh along with his suggestion. "Or, some lonely young man," he added in slight annoyance.

Chanyeol snickered to himself, knowing that his father was still trying to adjust to his bisexuality. Even though he'd come out to his father five years ago, the old man still couldn't wrap his head around Chanyeol liking both sexes.

"You see any suitable candidates, dad?" he asked, joking of course, but knowing his father, the old man would probably already have someone in mind he'd picked out as soon as they stepped foot into the mansion.

Humming, his father let his gaze travel over the dancing, chatting, drinking people of status, his lips pursed, and his finger tapping on his chin in thought. Then, his brows rose up. A small quirk of his lips indicated he found Chanyeol a candidate.

"That young man over there- the one with black messy hair, kinda short. You like them smaller than you, right?" his father asked, his head jutting toward the young man.

Chanyeol shook his head, a small grin on his face as he looked toward the said boy.

And to say he was surprised would be an understatement.

There, in a hall across from their table, right behind the sea of dancing attendees, stood Baekhyun in all of his gorgeous glory. Dressed in a black blazer, a black-and-white striped button-down, and black, tight-fitting dress pants, Baekhyun sighed, looking as if he'd rather be anywhere else but the gala.

Chanyeol could have sworn he stopped breathing, his breath taken away by the dark-haired beauty before him.

"Well, what do you think of him? Or is he too pretty for your likin-"

"No, dad," Chanyeol began, cutting his father off, "he's perfect."

And with that, Chanyeol stood up from his chair, flattening his palms against the nonexistent wrinkles in his tuxedo before walking around the table, his eyes on the prize: Baekhyun.

Gliding past flirty glances and swaying bodies, Chanyeol successfully made his way across the room, a smile on his lips and his hands in his pocket as he strode over to Baekhyun, who was picking at the dirt beneath his nails in boredom.

Just as Chanyeol was about to open his mouth, an arm tossed over his shoulder, pulling him into a side hug.

"Chanyeol-ah!" a familiar voice yipped cheerfully in his ear, making him and Baekhyun both look to the culprit.

"Jongin?" Chanyeol and Baekhyun asked in unison, their eyes wide as they looked at one another, then to their mutual acquaintance.

Jongin, a tan, beautiful man, grinned at the two of them, practically bouncing on his feet. "You two know each other?! Ah, all of my friends are friends!" he cheered, seeming to be tipsy, Chanyeol deduced from the faint blush on Jongin's cheeks and the way he swayed in his feet.

Baekhyun looked between Jongin and Chanyeol, his eyes narrowed into slits at Chanyeol before softening- just a fraction- at Jongin. 

“Nini? What are you doing here?” Baekhyun asked, making his way over to Chanyeol and Jongin. Chanyeol could tell already that Baekhyun wanted nothing to do with him, basing this assumption on the stiffened posture Baekhyun carried.

Averting his eyes from Chanyeol’s face, Baekhyun took hold of one of Jongin’s hands, feeling the warmth that radiated from the other’s skin.

Chanyeol observed Baekhyun, taking in the way his eyes would meet his own just before going back to Jongin. 

He seemed tense more than anything, his shoulders taut, his eyes darting everywhere else than being on him.

 _What’s he thinking?_ he wondered, his eyes trailing over Baekhyun’s body once more before turning his gaze to Jongin.

“How are you planning on getting home, Jongin-ah?” Chanyeol asked, steadying Jongin’s swaying body with a hand on Jongin’s waist.

Baekhyun’s eyes went straight down to that hand, narrowing into slits at the fingers that wrapped gently on Jongin’s waist.

For the first time in what seemed like forever, Baekhyun turned his gaze to Chanyeol, meeting his gaze head-on. 

“I think I can handle him for now,” Baekhyun began, looping Jongin’s other arm over his shoulders. “C’mon, Nini,” he said gently, his voice in a low, coaxing whisper as he began to peel Jongin’s giggly body from Chanyeol’s.

“W-Wait! Let me help you with him,” Chanyeol insisted, tightening his hand around Jongin’s waist, his eyes on Baekhyun as he did so.

“That just won’t do, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun scoffed, tugging Jongin into his arms, the other giggling drunkenly as he clung onto Baekhyun. “Can’t have you trying anything,” he muttered, successfully taking Jongin away from Chanyeol’s arms.

Chanyeol’s jaw fell open, his eyes widening as Baekhyun walked away with a giggling Jongin. Walking away as if he didn’t blatantly, underhandedly calling him a creep.

He wasn’t like Yifan, not even in the slightest bit.

Disgusted at the blow, Chanyeol scoffed, pulling his concerned gaze from Jongin and Baekhyun.

How did they even know each other?

As far as Chanyeol knew, Jongin didn’t have that many friends in his line of work: stripping.

How he met Jongin, not too long ago. He took up a gig being a security guard at a local club, walking Jongin and any other dancers to their cars at the end of the night.

Chanyeol took his job as a temporary security guard seriously, always ready to crack a skull open whenever one of the dancers was being pursued by creepy patrons. He absolutely loathed people like that. People that couldn’t keep their grimey hands to themselves.

People like Yifan.

That snake- man, was a prime example of creep. Disgustingly weird that Chanyeol was surprised he hadn’t confronted him before this.

Before Baekhyun.

God, how he wanted to protect Baekhyun just as he did with the dancers. He wanted to cover his back, making sure that no slithering snakes came within a foot of Baekhyun.

But how could he do that when said boy wanted nothing to do with him? 

Baekhyun would probably rather stab himself than let Chanyeol be anywhere near him, whether for protection or not. Baekhyun appeared to still be reeling from their first encounter.

And at that moment when Chanyeol looked up from the ground, seeing Baekhyun come back into the ballroom, no Jongin in sight, he saw something different.

He saw something other than annoyance, or disdain in his eyes.

He saw worry, concern, empathy.

He saw a boy looking out for his drunk friend in the midst of an important gala. 

Oh, how he wanted to take away that look, wanting to replace the emptiness of his gaze with contentment, happiness.

 _What the hell am I thinking?_ he asked himself, mentally groaning at how stupid he was being.

 _Maybe I should back off for now…_ he thought, averting his gaze from Baekhyun’s form in the distance.

With a heavy sigh, he carried himself down the hallway Baekhyun had been lingering in before, finding the bathroom and going in.

It was probably the cleanest bathroom he’s ever seen, but that wasn’t important. What was important was the fact that it’s been empty, void of any life outside of himself.

Going over to the sinks, the creamy, tawny marbled sinks, and counters, Chayeol turned the faucet on. Dipping his cupped hands under the fall of water, he splashed the cool, refreshing water onto his face. He did this a few times, wanting to wash the thoughts of a certain boy from the forefront of his mind.

Well, that is until the bathroom door swung open, almost making him open his closed eyes as he splashed his face once more before cutting the faucet off.

He didn’t mind sharing this space with another person.

Not at all.

Until his ears picked up the distinct clicking of a lock.

Snapping his eyes up at the mirror.

“Shut up for a second,” Baekhyun whispered, his eyes darting around as his chest rose and fell as if he’d been running.

“W-What-”

“Didn’t I just tell you to shut up for a second?” Baekhyun snapped quietly, his lips parted as he caught his breath, collecting his thoughts. His back was against the bathroom door, his hand on the lock as he stood there.

Pulling away from the door, he took what seemed like careful steps over to Chanyeol. Not stopping until he stood chest to chest with the taller of the two.

“Since I can’t seem to stop running into you, I think it’s fair to say that I’m really, really fucking tired of running around with you always there behind me,” Baekhyun sighed, his hands plating with the corners of Chanyeol’s lapels.

“What do you mean- I never followed you around on purpose. Me seeing you tonight and earlier was a complete coincidence, okay? And even if I was following you around, I’d only do it to keep you safe-”

“Safe from what, Chanyeol? Hm? Safe from people like that disgusting pig?” Baekhyun interrupted Chanyeol with a sneer, his eyes simmering with unadulterated fury, but Chanyeol knew there was much more than that laying in his eyes.

He saw right through Baekhyun, his eyes catching each shift of his attitude, the shifts in his body language. Hell, he could even tell the shift in his voice.

And he was damn sure that Baekhyun knew that he could pick up on all these things. It was probably why he hated being around him, afraid that if his true feelings were brought to light, he’d crumble in an instant, his resolve shattering into billions of little pieces.

“Yes, Baekhyun,” Chanyeol sighed, running his hand through his hair, his eyes rolling, tired of this already.

How was he supposed to get across to Baekhyun if he kept getting shot down?

“Well then,” Baekhyun began, his voice losing its edge as his eyes averted from Chanyeol’s, “how about you help me forget- forget about what happened and replace those feelings with new ones, oh gracious one,” he suggested, his fingers still fiddling with the hems of Chanyeol’s lapels.

Chanyeol grasped his smaller wrists in his hands, the warmth of his skin seeping into Baekhyun’s much cooler skin. “What do you mean?”

Baekhyun hummed, a small, minuscule smirk curling on the corner of his mouth. “No matter how hard I try to forget the way his hands felt on me, I keep reliving it. Over and over again. So, I want you to fix it-”

“Baekhyun, I don’t think I can-”

“You can!” Baekhyun cried, his hands clutching Chanyeol’s tux. “You have to…” his voice dwindled down, his eyes flickering between Chanyeol’s wide, concerned eyes. 

“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol called out, his voice soft as his hands inched from his sides, reaching up to cup Baekhyun’s cheeks in them. “I don’t know if I can...are you sure there’s no one else-”

“If it’s going to be anyone, it has to be you…”


End file.
